Contemporary
#93 – Milk
White droplets patted against damp straw, soaking through and pooling against frozen concrete beneath. Billowing steam span through the air and glimmered in the breaking dawn.
Two dozen cows mooed and lowed as their teeth ground in a grumbling, champing chorus.
Still the milk spilled from the machines, streams gathering together amid the red mud that caked each beast’s hooves.
Four dozen eyes saw the black truck arrive. Four dozen eyes saw the man wash his boots with disinfectant.
White streams became red as the man handed papers to the farmer. The cow shed door closed for the last time.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image via Freestocks.org
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Tim x
#89 – Euphoria
Blinding green light pulsed through heavy black air, fixing faces like photographs – caught in their euphoria. Jermain Wallace watched arms and mouths melt together in sexual abandon – tiny slivers of lust matched to music.
The bass trembled in his chest and rode through the floor: the pill dissolved on his tongue. The faces rippled to blackness and he rose his hands high to worship.
The empty Ibiza desert echoed around him as he opened his eyes.
His shirt was blood-stained. The blood was not his.
Jermain didn’t care.
The bass was all he needed. The bass was God.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Melissa Askew via Unsplash.
An interesting image to form a story from this – quite wonderful that I didn’t know precisely where it was going to end up!
Great thanks to supernatural romance author extraordinaire Rebecca Pollard for donating the word. You can find her on twitter @authorRebeccaP. Say I sent you 🙂
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Suggest your own words by tweeting me @timaustin2k or popping a note in the comments of this post. See you tomorrow for “Corner”!
#86 – Burning
The flames lapped at the wood and circled in the thinning air. A large crowd was watching as the fire danced and swelled, entranced by the hypnotic sweep of the blaze.
Music was playing loud and children were dancing. Cold boxes filled with beer gleamed in the firelight. The field was full of people talking and laughing together as the last rays of the day sank below the horizon.
The sheriff stepped forward, his hand lifting a microphone to continue his speech.
“Black Lives Matter, they say,…..” The crowd was laughing.
The children played and watched the white crosses burn.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Thomas Shellberg via Unsplash.
The first image that came to mind with this word was the KKK. It is a stain on humanity that this group still exists and that any group like this still exists. But it does and it’s worth remembering that, in these dark times. Humanity still has a long way to go,….
I’m still on the search for new words! If you’re reading this and you want to suggest one, please do! Just pop it in the comments or Tweet it to @timaustin2k using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
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See you tomorrow for “Fragile”.
#84 – Disfigurement
“Oi! Freddy Krueger!”
The teenage boy sneered as the rock left his hand and span against the armrest of the man’s wheelchair.
“I said oi!”
The man didn’t move.
The gang could see his reflection in the store window. His face was white and smooth: burned flesh twisted, his eyes milky. The boy threw another stone, laughing as it whistled past the man’s ear.
The store owner ran out and the gang scattered, their sneering cries echoing down the street.
“Hey man, why didn’t you say something?”
“Because” the burned man replied, “he wasn’t like that before the fire,…”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Dawn Armfield via Unsplash.
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See you tomorrow for “Loyal”.
#83 – Suave
The gentleman brushed his finger over the rim of his glass, a low growl shucked carelessly from his throat.
“Thank you.”
His voice was smooth beneath the gravel of age. His smile was bright.
The stewardess smiled back, bowing her head a little as she poured another splash of red wine into his glass. With another quick glance, she stood straight and walked back up the isle.
“Old man in 26 D seems nice,” she chirped, stepping through the crew curtain.
“Oh, he’s a regular,” her friend replied. “Check your pocket.”
The old man’s smile widened when he heard her scream.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Ross Parmly via Unsplash.
Keep your title suggestions coming (drop yours in the comments) and please do share stories you enjoy. You’ll find a list of genres to the left! Enjoy 🙂
Come back tomorrow for another 100 word short story. Remember: it’s one a day for 365 days! Keep following the blog for more.
#77 – Remember
“Hmmm?”
Ada looked across at the young woman beside her bed, surprised that someone had spoken. Her gaze focused slowly and she smiled.
“My favourite flowers are Chrysanthemums. Do you like Chrysanthemums, dear?”
“Yes, I love them.”
Ada couldn’t understand why the woman was crying. It was such a lovely day and her daughter would be visiting soon. She raised her finger to wipe the tear free from the pretty face and patted her cheek.
“Yes, Chrysanthemums. My Daughter always brings me a bunch.”
“She,…. sounds nice,…..” The woman was trembling as she kissed Ada’s hand.
“Happy birthday, Mom,…”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Callum Skelton via Unsplash.
Okay, I’m sorry. Some days the image that forms isn’t pleasant. I find degenerative diseases like Alzheimer’s terrifying and so very deeply sad. I have occasion to visit a nursing home frequently and I see similar scenes every visit. The families who deal with it daily are so strong and I admire them immensely.
If you have a word that means something to you and you’d like to see what I make of it, pop it in the comments and I’ll write you a 100 word short story.
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#69 -Manifesto
The Commodore stood on the balcony, his arms spread wide to the crowd below.
“This, my friends, is the start of a new country! A new hope! A new dawn for you – free from the corruption of the old ways!”
Jubilant cheers echoed from building to building. Horns blared from every street as the Commodore cupped his hands together and shook them in triumph.
Behind him a man in a black suit was inspecting a model of an oil field, lifting a letter from beside it and lighting the corner with a match.
“Thank you, Commodore. That will do nicely.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Linhao Zhang Courtesy of Unsplash
This story is dedicated to the memory and family of Jo Cox, MP for Batley and Spen in the UK, who was shot and killed earlier today. Jo was a fearless fighter for justice, peace and the good of her constituents. She was a wonderful example to us all. My thoughts are with her family.
#68 – Principle
A stubby finger pushed a pawn across the board, cigar ash falling around the piece in a halo of smoking debris. Churchill growled and smiled.
“There is no instance of a nation benefiting from prolonged warfare,” the Britain stated, leaning back into his leather armchair.
A rook slid across the board to threaten the pawn. Churchill frowned.
A finger tapped against the board, sweeping away the cigar ash with disdain.
“That is why this war will be short,” came a replay from across the table.
“No, Adolf.”
Churchill slipped a knight to checkmate his opponent’s king.
“But it will be won.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Photo by Nguyen Pham on Unsplash
I’ve no idea why but the first image I had for this word was Churchill sat drinking with Hitler pleasantly. It adapted in the writing but,… what an extraordinary idea,…. I mean, what would they talk about?! There’s a hell of a book in that,….
Hit that follow button and like the OWOS Facebook page for more! Suggest your own one-word titles by popping your word in the comments below.
See you tomorrow for “Manifesto”.
#66 – More
Jane sank the spoon into the tub, her eyes fixed to the TV screen as Darcy and Cleaver tumbled through the restaurant window and slid to the tarmac. She laughed. She’d been laughing all night.
Her spoon tapped the edge of the cardboard, circling and chasing the last fragment of Ice Cream. Jane sighed as she noticed the emptiness of the container, throwing it to the side with the others.
Jane ib-dibbed for the next tub, her finger sweeping over the discarded engagement ring as she considered her four choices. She scowled and laughed with venom.
“Screw it. All of them.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Brandi Redd via Unsplash.
I’m looking for more one word titles! Suggest yours by writing it into the comments or tweeting me @timaustin2k using the hashtag #onewordonestory
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See you tomorrow for “Attic”!
#64 – Poet
Joel closed his eyes and took a breath, his hands rising and reaching out into the sun-dappled air. His chin rose as he felt the words spring from his chest and force themselves from his lips.
Worlds swirled in his imagination. Wild realities and lost loves poured from his soul, forming into crude reality with each flick of his tongue. His heart ached at each new phrase, tears fell as he knitted verse to verse.
A roll of distant thunder greeted the finale. It was perfect.
The Eight year old boy watching him coughed.
“Mister,…. why didn’t it Rhyme?”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Curtis Mac Newton via Unsplash.
Suggest your own one word story title – it’s easy! Pop your word in the comments or tweet it to @timaustin2k using the hashtag #onewordonestory and I’ll write a story just for you!
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